It is quite visible, her speck of a mole occupying the bridge of her chest. Her figure, like a swan graceful yet bound to flail with the absence of water. The absence of her habitat. Yet, through all in all her strength only grows as she strives to go on. Her body stretches out with power and vigor. Where confusion once laid across her brightly tanned face, now stood the look of urgency. It was clear that within her strains of artificial brown hair now laid traces of her dark past. Never able to truly recover from her lost; invisible stains of blood remain frozen in her mind as she glances at her bed. The pictures of those she have loved and presently love are separated only by appearance. Dust has overtaken the portraits of the insignificant. Polished and placed in noticeable spots stood those that reside in her present.
Although she continues to wake up every morning to the sound of a chococat alarm clock, she never notices the absence of the charm that was once there. It now became a nuisance to her and through the outlining of her smooth hands she doesn’t waste time in ending its load announcement. Sliding out of bed, she quickly slips on her slippers and stretches out her arms as her dog embraces her. Wetness is now present across her cheeks from the animals greeting. Instead of wiping away the residue, she leaves it as if unknowingly. Her brown hair had bundled up through the night. The sight was quickly erased as streams of hot water hit her head first. Water slowly drives down head to toe in a quick notion leaving tiny droplets of water in its trail.